


Stacked Deck

by PuzzleBot



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (he uses they and he interchangeably), Crossover Pairings, Fortune Telling, Genderfluid Mollymauk Tealeaf, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Tarot, idk if this counts as slow burn bc im impatient, im back on my crackship shit kiddos, relationships be messy yo, we'll see, with a brief detour in there somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-05-15 15:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19298638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleBot/pseuds/PuzzleBot
Summary: The Tres Horny Boys are searching for a death criminal on the Reaper Trio's behalf. Which takes them to an incredibly ostentatious carnival.---The first Magmauk fic? That I can find at leastT for swears and general canon-typical h*ckery---Previously Titled: Deck of Magmauk Things





	1. The Anvil (Reversed)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThePrinceps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrinceps/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus is left to his own devices at a circus. It goes as well as you'd expect. Molly meets a new face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ship was a joke because I found a Potion Seller animation that looked like Magnus and Molly and then Wade and I did the internet equivalent of looking at each other with a smirk and then we shipped Magnus/Molly? So I said I'd write a short drabble.
> 
> A short drabble.
> 
> Hah.

**** Magnus doesn't believe in gods.

 

This is a hard stance to take when his best friend is dating a god-servant, and his kind-of dad bums his magic off another god, and his spear was made for him by a third, but he stands by it.

 

There's no reason putting your faith in the hands of what's essentially an overblown sorcerer--nothing ever gets done that way.

 

It's the same reason he doesn't believe in tarot cards. What's a shiny piece of card going to tell him that he doesn't know already? Divination is different--that’s  _ actual _ magic, and he doesn’t claim to get it, but at least it’s proven.

 

"I didn't ask for a fuckin' philosophy lesson, kemosabe, I just said there was a booth over there,  _ jeez _ ,” Taako says in between mouthfuls of deep-fried, painfully oily carnival food, “Shit’s awful, I  _ love  _ it.”

 

“The fortune telling, or the food?” Magnus swipes a handful of the fried potatoes, eyeing the gaudy, red and gold booth with derision.

 

Taako’s response is muffled by another mouthful of his lunch, and Magnus chuckles and takes the silence to pitch his things down at a bench and start his surveillance of the shady tent next to the fortune telling booth.

 

The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities has been the subject of some conversation since it settled outside Neverwinter in perfect time for the harvest festivities. At first, it was nothing sinister, but Kravitz had his hackles up the moment he strolled past it. So now the Tres Horny Boys are on recon whilst the Reapers battle bureaucracy to get a permit to search the carnival more thoroughly. Magnus trusts Krav, for sure, but he can’t see how there’d be anything dangerous here. Children are dancing around the feet of elegant dancers with rainbow ribbons, and shining illusions are lighting up the tents as they soar overhead in the shape of dragons and unicorns. It’s beautiful. Uncannily similar to Wonderland, if he thinks on it too long, but he’s not entertaining those thoughts today.

 

“Where’d Merle get to, anyway?” Taako finally finishes his snacks, making some notes in a book that vanishes into arcane sparks when he dismisses it. 

 

“Think he brought his kids,” Magnus answers, eyes still travelling around the five different things vying for his short attention span.

 

Taako snorts, affronted, and taps the KrEbStAr to his side as he prepares to stride off, “Old man thinks he can slack off ‘cause he fucked one time? We’ll see about that.”

 

And like that, Taako’s vanished into the crowd, leaving Magnus to his own devices monitoring the shady side tent. He can do that. He won’t get bored. This is a  _ great _ use of his skills.

 

Minutes pass, which drag onto hours, until it feels like  _ days _ staring at this tent. Magnus jerks out of his focus on it eventually, only to glance at the Neverwinter Clocktower and feel his heart shatter when he realises it’s been all of thirty seconds. He sinks down in his armour and lets out a groan, leg bouncing hard enough to shake the bench until-

 

“Careful there--these things aren’t often made for such rigorous testing,” a light lavender hand clamps, almost vice-like, onto Magnus’ shoulder as whoever it belongs to sits down next to him, rambling on before he even has a chance to react, “Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends. Now, do me the honour: what’s got you so glum in the middle of our bright and brilliant event, hm?”

 

Magnus freezes in place, then glances down at the eccentric figure. A lithe tiefling with a muss of wavy plum hair grins crookedly at him, exuding a confidence that only someone with as many tattoos as they do can have. Their deep red eyes are trained intently on his face, still expecting a response. Struck dumb by the assault of colour and personality, though, Magnus remains at a loss for words until Mollymauk-Tealeaf-Molly-to-their-friends speaks again.

 

“Come on, now, we can’t have someone sad in  _ our _ midst. But if you won’t tell me, maybe I can discern it…? This one’s on the house.”   
  
The tiefling grins, releases their hold on Magnus, and pushes past a plethora of glittering moon trinkets to produce a deck of cards from one of the many pockets inside their intricate coat. They start to shuffle, and Magnus returns to his senses with a start.

 

“No, uh- No thanks,” he mumbles, “I’m good, actually? Not so much a fan of-”   
  
Molly flips the first card, sliding it onto the splintered wood of the bench, “The Anvil, reversed. You feel ill at ease, stalled in your endeavours and as if your potential is being wasted.”

 

Blinking, Magnus looks between the card and Mollymauk. So one was right. But it was just a coincidence. Plus, it’s not like it told him what to  _ do _ about it.

 

“Look, I-- Uh, I’m really fine without the reading,” Magnus smiles back at the reader, who arches an eyebrow.

 

“I’ve not convinced you yet? Well, in that case, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here? It’s more fun if I have things to go off. Let’s start with your name…?”   
  
“It’s Magnus, but really, I’m  _ good _ . I’m not here to have fun,” he responds, already feeling his willpower wearing down. This guy looks like a good time, and if Taako and Merle are going to slack off… This could work as  _ intelligence gathering _ , right? “I’m here on, uh, surveillance duty.”

 

“And you’ve been  _ surveying _ my tent since you got here, Magnus,” they laugh, eyes narrowing behind the jovial smile, “So let’s cut the shit: what  _ are _ you surveying?”

 

Magnus is suddenly all too aware of the swords that hang at Mollymauk’s side, but something tells him that this one isn’t the death criminal they’re tracking down. He can  _ probably _ trust a shady fortune teller, right?   
  
“It’s a long story, but do you… Have somewhere quieter we can talk?”

 

Molly quirks an eyebrow, clearly holding back an innuendo as he gestures with his deck of cards towards his fortune telling tent. Magnus almost winces, but glances back to the Anvil, resting accusingly on the table, and nods.

 

The tent is brighter inside than Magnus had expected. There’s some cheap spell he couldn’t identify for the life of him cast on crystals that are draped in a net across the roof that make them shine and reflect a million warped versions of his face back at him. It’s smaller, too, probably due to the incredible amount of plush cushions scattered across the silver rug that covers the grass.   
  
“Make yourself comfortable, pull up a cushion. Drink?” Mollymauk shrugs off his coat now, revealing a deep necked shirt and more scars than the fighter would have expected of a carnie. Maybe there is something going on here…

 

“I’m good on drinks, thanks,” Magnus sits down, one hand still brushed against his weapons as he watches Mollymauk slink around the room with an almost feline gait before they sink down onto a pillow the other side of a low table, spreading the cards out on it as they watch Magnus intently.

 

“Shame, that always tends to loosen a tongue. So, you’re here for…” And before Magnus can protest, Molly’s pulled another card, pushing it out for both of them to observe, “The Reaper. You’re looking for someone?”

 

Now that one was just a little on the nose.

 

“Y-Yeah. Something like that,” Magnus looks down at the table, squinting as the tiefling’s quick hands dance over the cards, “How’d you know that?”   
  
“I didn’t--the cards did. Now, this person you’re looking for: a member of the carnival? Should I be protecting me and mine?” Mollymauk purrs, leaning over the cards.

 

“Uh, dunno, actually. We’re going off a magical divine hunch of my friend’s boyfriend? He’s kind of sensitive to death criminals, and he noticed one around here somewhere? I… Don’t suppose you know about a death criminal around here…?” Magnus shrugs, but a glint of recognition shines through the tiefling’s eyes for a split second.

 

“No idea, sorry!” Mollymauk chimes brightly, their hands flitting back over their cards and pushing them towards the human, “Maybe the cards’ll know?”

 

Magnus frowns. He might be a fool, but he’s no idiot. This tiefling  _ is _ hiding something. The cards might lie, but faces don’t. He heaves a sigh and pulls a card from the pile, eyes narrowing.

 

“The Eye?” Magnus pouts a little and glances up at Molly, who reaches over the table and brushes Magnus’ hand with their own as they fiddle with the cards.

 

“You picked up two,” they point out, as if trying to divert from the first card, “You also picked out… The Moon. Ah. Interesting.”

 

“And they mean…?” Magnus isn’t looking at the cards, though. His eyes are trained on the tiefling, whose lip curls as they lean in to match Magnus’ intense stare.

  
“You seem nice. Come back tomorrow, do a proper reading with me--one that  _ isn’t  _ on the house--and I’ll let you know.”

 

With that, Molly snatches back the cards and kisses the human’s cheeks, pulling back to smile tightly at him. Magnus lets out a huff, going to protest, but at that moment, the fabric covering the tent’s opening bursts open with a forceful huff of wind.   
  


“Off you go, now!”

 

And just like that, Magnus finds himself almost compelled to leave the tent. He wanders back to the bench in somewhat of a daze, thinking hard on everything the eccentric tiefling just exposed him to. Even as he sits down again, he’s distracted, his cheeks warm and his hands finding the card that had been discarded on the table. The Anvil. He flips it over and over in his hands, watching as it catches the afternoon sun in its foiled covering.

 

It’s still all bullshit, but the card’s pretty--he’s not going to deny that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more ??????? maybe? ???? i have ideas so come and yell at me @angus-mcdonald-official on tumblr
> 
> also catch me creating more cards for molly's deck through this since we don't have a complete list smgdh


	2. The Chariot (reversed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly complains about fate and its insistence on being noticed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two modes:  
> > Updates fic every two days  
> > Updates fic every two years
> 
> I'm making no promises,,,

“Yasha,” Molly stretches across the plush, shoddy carpet with a groan as he massages a crick out of his neck, “Do you think I’m a death criminal?”

 

A brief flash of confusion crosses the aasimar’s face as she sinks into a crouch across from Molly and drops the small sack she’s filled with food from Neverwinter’s harvest market, “A death criminal? I don’t, I don’t even know what that would entail.”

 

“Neither do I.”   
  
He buries his face into a nearby pillow, tail lashing back and forth as Yasha pulls out a loaf of bread and roughly cuts slices from it. Mismatched eyes are boring into the back of his head. It still makes him squirm after all the time he’s known her.  _ Dammit _ .

 

“There was this guy today-”

 

“Ah, this is always a good start to a story for you, Mollymauk,” Yasha interrupts, laughter bubbling through into her voice, “Do you want cheese on this? Or honey?”   
  
“One of each, please, darling,” Molly rolls over to stare up at the tent’s roof, the night sky of charms overhead clinking together with a pleasant twinkle, “Anyway, there’s this guy. Broad as anything, scars all over. Handsome, in his way. Didn’t seem like a bad guy, but he was stinking up the whole area with this scowl as he  _ glared _ at the tent.”   
  
“The Big Top?”

 

“No, no, this one. Was trained on it like a hunting dog or something. So I went over, right, with my usual patter and charm…”   
  
“Naturally,” she scrapes generous servings of thick butter over the fresh bread, still in a crouch as she prepares their small meals, “But I don’t get what this has to do with… Death criminals?”

 

“I’m getting there, keep your hair on…!” Molly finally stands up and starts pacing, one boot in front of the other like he’s on the tightrope (he’s been banned from the actual tightrope, after The Incident, so this  _ is _ as close as he’ll get), “So I offer him a free reading, see if I can work out why he’s there, and he gets all  _ serious  _ on me and asks if there’s somewhere we can talk?”

 

“Ah, Molly, you should have called for me--I could have escorted him away…?”

 

Molly chuckles and drapes himself into Yasha’s lap as she hands him a doorstop wedge of bread, drizzled with honey. He didn’t know what he was expecting from Neverwinter cuisine, but this kind of homegrown goodness wasn’t it. Still,  _ delicious _ .

 

“It’s fine, I’m still alive, aren’t I? Anyway, one thing leads to another, and he tells me he’s looking for a  _ death criminal _ \--see, told you I’d get there. And I sort of tried to distract him…? With the cards, and he pulled two more.”

 

“I thought you didn’t believe in them, really?” Yasha looks down at Molly, idly playing with his hair as she works through her own bread with a free hand.

 

“I  _ don’t _ . They’re good for advice, but you need spells if you really want to know what’s coming,” Molly scowls at the pocket he’s returned his cards to, “But when you pull The Eye and The Moon whilst you’re searching for a  _ death criminal  _ and talking to someone who woke up dead and worships the Moonweaver… That’s got to mean something, doesn’t it?”

 

“Maybe so, but… Even if it does, do you  _ care _ ? It seems to me like… Like you’ve never wanted to know anything about your past before.”

 

“Not my past to know. But… I don’t know, it all just seems… Convenient.”

 

“So now you’re sulking?” Molly shoots a sharp look up at Yasha.

 

The aasimar sighs deeply and finishes her bread, dusting her hands on her dusky clothing before rolling her shoulders so deeply that they crack. She smiles down at her closest friend and indicates for him to sit up. In time-honoured tradition, Molly situates himself neatly in front of her, and she starts to massage his shoulders, strong fingers working away at stress-formed knots until she works out what she wants to say. It’s easier to talk if she’s not meeting the other person’s eyes, and Molly caught onto that faster than most. And he’s never one to turn down a free massage.

 

“Mollymauk, I do not think you are a- a death criminal. I do not have an explanation for why you woke up in the dirt, but… How I see it at least, you are not in the wrong. You are simply living your life. It is not like you are undead, or somehow… I don’t know, siphoning other’s lives to continue yours… You’re Molly, and you may have done many incredibly odd and…  _ Ridiculous _ things… But you have never been a bad person.”

 

“Yasha, you’re eternally a darling,” Molly shifts, “Yeah, right there’s good. But… I don’t give a shit what people think about me. You know that. It’s nothing that deep. More than anything, it’s just…  _ Annoying _ .”

 

“How so? Eat your bread before it gets crusty.”

 

“Yes, yes, I’m eating,” he picks up the second slice--this one topped with a hearty chunk of cheese.

 

A silence falls again on the pair as Molly sinks his teeth into the bread. Outside, he can hear the circus winding down for the night. Most of the visitors have headed home for the night by now, and the stragglers will be bored with the lonely few stalls that are open this late soon enough. Yasha pauses the massage to gently undo the thin chains that adorn her friend’s horns and ears, taking the time to lay each one out beside them in strict rows.

 

“I don’t want anything to do with whoever the fuck I was before,” Molly starts, speaking into the open circle of the tent as he leans back against Yasha’s chest, scowling, “But they obviously want something to do with  _ me _ . What with these damn  _ eyes _ ,” Molly prods at the back of his hand, his nail catching it and causing a small fleck of blood to streak down his arm, the snake crying a single tear, “And now someone hunting down a  _ death criminal _ \--someone who  _ cheated death _ .”

 

Tutting, Yasha catches her friend’s hands in her own and kisses the back of his forehead as she looks out towards the tent’s entrance, “If you do not want to know about it, then we will ignore fate’s call. What did you tell the man?”

 

“To come back tomorrow, pay me for a proper reading,” Molly responds, pulling in his legs to fit neatly against Yasha’s body, “Should I just… Get out of here for tomorrow?”

 

“Don’t you think that would be  _ more _ suspicious? I will hang around in here tomorrow, make sure he won’t hassle you…” Yasha returns to lazily running her hands through Molly’s hair and massaging the base of the horns, an instant sedative for any tiefling, “Or we can run for the day. You know I will support you either way.”   
  
“Tell you what, we’ll ask these things,” Molly says through a yawn, fishing out his cards and fanning them out above his head for Yasha to choose, “Do we stay, or do we go?”   
  
Yasha pulls a card, eyes bright, even despite the absence of Molly's usual theatrics.

 

“The Chariot, Molly, but upside down. Just like when we first met?” She laughs softly, tucking the card back into the pack and shrugging off her shawls at last.

 

“Reversed… Stability, boredom, and idleness. Waiting for the road to come to us,” Molly raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “I guess we stay.”   
  
“In that case,” Yasha pulls some of the nearby blankets near, wadding up her favourite thick patchwork one to serve as a pillow, “Are you sleeping now?”   
  
“In a bit. I’m going to go curse at the moon a bit first.”   
  
“Don’t be too loud, please.”

 

Molly chuckles, lazily stretching and prowling to the tent’s entrance, “No promises, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I miss Yash and Molly's friendship y'all!!!
> 
> I'm thinking next chapter will be TAZ-Centric uwu
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr! @angus-mcdonald-official


	3. III - The Treasure Chart (Upright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys regroup and discuss plans for tracking down the death criminal. Magnus holds back.

Taako’s cooking is a rare treat these days. It’s not often that they’re all together for dinner, and less often still that they’re somewhere with a functioning kitchen instead of a campfire. Not to imply that Taako _can’t_ work wonders on an open fire, but… He’s miles better in a kitchen.

 

“Mmph, Taako, where’d you get these spices?” Magnus digs into his hearty bowl of food with delight, shovelling brightly coloured piles of rice and meat onto his fork.

 

“Present from Lup,” Taako responds as he pushes a large cake into the oven to bake before he seats himself at the head of the table to look at Magnus and Merle, pride shining in his eyes, “I made enough for us all to have, like, double servings, so go hog wild.”

 

“Aren’t the spooky skeletons joining us?” Merle indicates the empty spaces at the table as he reaches for a roll, a grace to Pan spoken under his breath.

 

“I just got off the stone with Barold, they’re still caught up in the other plane--I’ve got some left under a stasis, don’t worry,” Taako starts to eat, giving himself a mental pat on the back for the _great_ texture of the chicken before he claps his hands together, “Alright! What information did we learn?”

 

Magnus is on the verge of mentioning Mollymauk when something stops him. What did he learn, really? He… Met a fortune teller--after slating the entire profession to Taako--and wandered from his post to get his fortune told. _Yikes_ . As for leads…? Well, the _fortune teller_ told him to come back tomorrow. That’s something, right?

 

But Taako _will_ call him out, no doubt…

 

His deliberation comes to an end when Taako throws a roll and pelts him directly in the forehead, “Wake up!”

 

“Huh! What? No. Uh, no,” Magnus manages through a mouthful of food, “I didn’t find anything that interesting. Since you two, y’know, abandoned me to stare at a tent all day.”

 

Taako raises an eyebrow, shifting his eyes to land on Merle, who’s halfway through his first serving already, “I’d not have abandoned you if _someone_ hadn’t wandered off with his kids, my dude.”

 

“Hey, hey, now, it was a _plan_ ! Just ‘cause Mookie ran off for a while there, don’t mean I didn’t get shit _done_!” Merle insists, hopping from his chair and retrieving a pile of papers from his bag and dropping them on the table, sending salad careening to the edge before Magnus can catch the bowl, “Maps!”

 

“Oh?” Taako steeples his fingers and peers at the colourful papers, ears flicking with curiosity, “You _did_ do something productive?”

 

“More productive than your damn food testing,” Merle huffs, a twinkle in his eyes, “Nah, Mavey’s been training up at a Pan camp when she’s with her ma--they’ve got some newfangled magic. ‘Sall a bit spooky, but nothing we ain’t used to, right? She’s learnt how to do this thing where she can, uh, sense the undead for a bit? She can’t do it much, but we sorta went round the circus and looked for any death criminals? She’s a smarter kid’n I ever was, so she’s mapped it all out for us, what with times she noticed something… Y’see, right there is summat she noticed at like, midday maybe?

 

“This is all scattered ‘round, though,” Taako pouts, leaning over the maps and sighing, “There’s no way to track down some kinda undead thing if it’s moving so erratically.” 

 

Magnus pulls his chair over and peers at the map, covered in small circles and arrows to indicate direction, and some doodles that Mookie must have added, too. Of the three circles of undead presence, two are near the Big Top, at different times of the day, and the other moves down towards the main thoroughfare of the circus, sometime in between the two at the Big Top.

 

“It narrows it down though, right? Whoever it is spent at least some of their day at the Big Top, ‘n went back there in the evening. That’s…? Super late, after the last show--did Mavey _camp_ there?” Magnus pulls back from the map to look at Merle.

 

As if it to explain it all, Merle makes a face and shrugs, “She’s been hanging ‘round with Angus when he’s ain’t teaching. Kid’s a bad influence.”

 

Taako can’t help but snort at that, “I don’t think Dankus has it in him to be a bad influence by _accident_ , my dude, let alone on purpose, but _go off_ I guess.”

 

“Look, point is that we should go back with Mavey tomorrow, see if we can pinpoint the guy any more.”

 

“I’d _love_ to babysit your kid, but I’ve got this meeting tomorrow? About my new book? I’m outskis for the day,” Taako leans back in his chair, playing with his food and shrugging, “You two fools can handle this, right?”

 

“Yeah, we’ll be just fine on our own, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Merle assures his companion gruffly, gathering up the papers again and settling down to finish his meal, “More worried about the big guy here running off than Maves.”

 

Blinking, Magnus shakes his head, realising that he’s being pulled into _not_ going back to see Mollymauk and chase up that lead. And yet, he still doesn’t want to admit his idea to the others before he has any solid evidence, for fear of Taako’s thoughts on the matter after his _impassioned speech_ against fortunes just a few hours ago.

 

“I can look after myself,” he insists, blurting before he stops to think about it much more, “I’m gonna check on some other leads around--babysitting is, uh, harder than dog sitting.”

 

“I’unno,” Merle disagrees with a grin, “Feed ‘em, keep ‘em entertained, make sure they don’t shit on the-”  
  
Fortunately for everyone at the table, Merle’s comparison is cut off by the sound of reality splitting in two. Bickering spills out of the rift that joins the two planes, and Lup and Kravitz barely even greet the boys continuing their heated discussion.

 

“Lup, you _know_ we can’t go in all guns blazing,” Kravitz insists as he drifts past Taako to kiss him on the top of the head and retrieve his dinner, “If they know we’re looking for them, they’ll run!”  
  
“I _never said guns_ ,” Lup retaliates, definitely not throwing a gun into a pocket dimension underneath the table, “I’m just saying, if we had the element of _surprise_ …”

 

“Lup, I love you, I love your plans,” the world sews itself back together as Barry steps through and picks up a plate, “But we can’t have the element of surprise when we don’t know who the death dodger _is_ . That's where our _boys_ come in. Evening, boys.”

 

The boys let off a chorus of greetings, and shuffle around plates to make room at the table.

 

“I’m taking the lively conversation to mean you didn’t get permission yet?” Taako looks towards Kravitz, who seems seconds away from reverting into his ball of light form from the amount of pressure drawn on his face. 

 

“The Queen wants us to be certain before we strike, and Neverwinter officials won’t let us in before we have permission _from_ the Queen. Who do they think they are, demanding a _goddess_ to sign our _permission slips_?” Kravitz huffs, relaxing only slightly when Taako stacks a plate of the choicest parts of the dinner and slips it in front of him, pairing it with a chaste kiss to the cheek.

 

“Sounds like bureaucratical fanatical bullshit, if you ask me. Glad I’m not bound by _politics_ ,” Merle hops down from his chair as he talks, chuckling to himself.

 

“Aren’t you, like, an _earl_ ?” Barry points out, piling his own plate with rolls and rice as he settles down to lean into Lup’s warmth, “And a _priest_ ? Those are both _pretty political_.”

 

Merle ignores him, and the silence falls for just long enough that Taako notices him trying to squirm out of cleaning his plate, and sends another roll flying across the room to hit him square in the back of the head.

 

“Clean your shit, old man, I’m not your _maid_ ,” he scoffs before turning to Lup and the rest of the table, “ _So_ , we have a plan, if you’re still all barred.”

 

As Taako recounts the plan once more, and Merle skulks off to clean his plate, Magnus falls back from the conversation, hiding his thoughts behind another plate of rice.

 

The tarot card is still burning in his pocket, and his mind is wandering all over the place, but it always comes back to that strange, strange tiefling. He’s known Taako and Lup for long enough to know that anyone who puts on that much of a show--be it through behaviour or flashy outfits--has something they’re compensating for, or hiding. Hell, he’s even guilty of it, Merle is; probably Cap’nport and Lucretia, too. And that’s just the people he knows well enough to say it for. So what’s Mollymauk-Molly-To-Their-Friends hiding, or compensating for? It all seems a little too convenient for them not to know something about the odd vibes at the circus. If nothing else, he’s captured Magnus’ attention, and that’s _hard_ to do. Mollymauk is a mystery wrapped in a patchwork coat and covered in shining jewellery, and he needs to know what’s going on with him. For the team, of course. But maybe just to satisfy some personal curiosity, too...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating as and when I complete chapters! What do yall think of the new title? And of the story itself owo ??? Come yell with me over on tumblr @angus-mcdonald-official!


End file.
